Arkham: Apocalypse
by laproblematique
Summary: "It's not like he'll die. It's Batman... Right?"


**Disclaimer:** ** _Batman, nor any of the associated characters in and around the DC universe belong to me, and neither does the storyline of Batman: Arkham City. However, for the purposes of this story, I've had to rip out a scene or two from said comic in order to set my own plot in motion._**

 **E**

 _Selina Kyle didn't mean to die that day._

She stood proud, encircled by a band of meticulous Tyger guards, until one, two, three, four, five, six… All seven of them dropped to her feet, lifeless as Ivy's brainless zombie henchmen. Selina allowed a small smile to creep across her lips as she nudged one corpse with her toe and rolled him on to his back, wherefrom he stared at the ceiling with empty, unseeing eyes. Humming a merry tune to herself, she silently congratulated herself and went to collect her prize.

The weights of the steel briefcases were heavy in her hands, but it brought Catwoman satisfaction to know that within those very boxes was the loot she had worked so hard for. After all, it was the least she deserved after putting up with little old Harv's stunt in the courthouse, wasn't it? No girl deserved to be tied up—literally—in a situation like that without some kind of reward for her trouble.

Smirking, the Cat lifted her treasures with pride, hoisting them into the air and twirling slightly, showing them to an invisible audience seated around the room. A single chuckle escaped her lips as she lowered her arms again and turned to make her way to the entrance of the vault.

"… _2… 1…"_

Ah, yes. She had drowned out the countdown, allowing her excitement to overwhelm her when she saw the shining cases atop the old iron desk. Protocol Ten, whatever it was, was now certainly underway; but what did the countdown mean, and why was it necessary?

As if in answer to her question, there was an echoing rumble far off in the distance—an explosion, perhaps? She didn't have time to think about it, for if Strange sent more Tyger guards to apprehend her inside of the vault, the effort of a fight would critically delay her exit out of the God-forsaken prison.

Catwoman made her way back over to the heavily reinforced vault door. Pity. Pity that so-called 'genius' Strange hadn't been smart enough to realize that no maximum-security protection practice was going to keep _her_ out of his confiscated goods; pity that his poor, soulless little Tyger guards had to have their worthless careers had to have the rope of their careers cut short by her claws.

Without further hesitation, Selina kicked open the door, lightly stepping over a limp body as she exited the room. A voice came over the intercom in the vault as she made her escape and resounded throughout the empty space around her. She made a face at nothing in particular, noting how _delighted_ the speaker sounded at the news he announced.

"All units, we have visual confirmation; the Steel Mill is hit. Batman is down. I repeat, Batman is down."

Catwoman's breath hitched in her throat. _Batman… Down?_ It couldn't be. Bruce was far too strong, too quick. There was no way he would have been caught in the blast. He would've known it was coming, would've executed one of his usual last-minute escapes. It must have been a mistake.

Yet… What if that was what Protocol Ten really was—just a ploy to finally put an end to the Batman? If that was the true nature of the procedure, it didn't make any sense in Selina's mind. Why were all of those criminals brought into Arkham if the only purpose of the area was to destroy Batman? Freeze, Ivy, Joker and Harley… Were they all really necessary? What was their role? Could they have been placed under supervision to act as _bait_ for Bruce? Surely not all of them were needed to lure him in; the Joker himself would have been more than enough to bring Bruce running to the rescue.

Swallowing the bile that had crawled its way up her throat, Catwoman kept her head held high and her feet moving across the concrete, even as Hugo Strange's deep and malicious voice played over the intercom.

"Good. Wait until Protocol Ten has completed, then send out a squad to retrieve the Batman's body."

And there he was, shown on screen through surveillance footage for the vault guards to see. Not that they would now.

It was Bruce, cloaked in his blackened armour, lying under what must've been two or so feet of collapsed ceiling and rubble. His face was dark with soot and ash, and the unmistakable tinge of red highlighting his jaw confirmed the suspicion that the wounds inflicted upon him had been strong enough to make him bleed.

The sight caused Catwoman to shift on her feet anxiously as her heart twisted uncomfortably. Oh, damn it, why did this have to happen to _her_ of all people? She shouldn't have had to care about him, or merely _ponder_ about running to his rescue. No, she should have just done what she came for, and that was to take the goods she wanted and then clear the hell out. So why were her feet rooted to the ground, and why was her heart hammering in her chest with each second that ticked by?

She looked to her right. God, the door looked so tempting. To think that freedom was just a few steps away… All she had to do was to force her legs to move three, maybe four times, and then that would be it; the nightmare would be over, and she'd be out of the game for good. Arkham City would just be another part of her history.

Her head seemed to turn to the left of its own accord, forcing her to look at the small passageway through which she had first crawled through in order to access the main vault. Back through there, of course, would lead her directly into the sewer, and from there all she'd have to do was to navigate her way back up into the city, where she could head over to the Steel Mill and pull off her daring rescue mission.

The muscles in Selina's arms tightened in reluctance and her fingers seemed to grip the handles of the briefcases much more solidly than before, scared to let go lest she lose her treasures. Before she could do anything she was heading down the path to the left.

 _What are you doing? Are you_ insane _?_ The tiny voice in the back of her mind screamed and cursed at her, condemning her actions. _Look at what you've become, Selina. Everything was going so well, and yet you put it all on hold for that_ bastard.

The list of profanities seemed endless, and she winced with each worse. No, Bruce wasn't any of those things—he had saved her from Harvey, hadn't he? And from the Joker, when he tried to take his own shot at her; no pun intended there. How could she have the guts to call him any names when he, Bruce Wayne, had put all of his own motives to the side simply to save her from her demise? The least she could do was to return the favour… Or try to, at least.

Selina reached the passageway and looked at the two silver cases in her hands regretfully before setting them down.

 _Since when did_ you _grow a conscience?_ The voice reprimanded her. She ignored it and climbed through the tunnel, pulling her red-lensed goggles down over her eyes.

 _Hold on, handsome. I'm coming to save you_.


End file.
